


Sides Of A Coin

by stharridan



Series: OTP 100: Kenpachi/Jushiro [13]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-16
Updated: 2011-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-20 11:32:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stharridan/pseuds/stharridan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jushiro's the only person besides Yachiru to witness the other side of Kenpachi. Naturally, he takes advantage of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sides Of A Coin

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #4: _laugh_.

Jushiro likes it when he wakes up in the mornings to find Kenpachi's head resting on his chest, feeling his strong arms wrapped protectively around him. Kenpachi's weight presses down on him, but he doesn't mind it in the least. The expression on the man's face when he's asleep is something that no one else but Jushiro and the pink-haired child are able to see. It's such a rare occurrence, that sense of peace that settles over Kenpachi. One would deem it impossible given his violent nature, but there are always two sides to a coin.

At first, he had his doubts regarding the man. How he killed the captain of the Eleventh Division in just a single blow, sustaining nothing but a cut on the shoulder, had stirred a significant amount of unrest in the Seireitei. Jushiro himself made sure to steer clear of him, forcing a small smile to him whenever they passed just for the sake of respect. In return, he'd receive a rude scoff. Sometimes, he'd get a smirk, a grin that sent slight chills up his spine. Single grey eye flashing at him, consumed by the desire to start a fight, and quickly Jushiro would turn on his heel and walk away. It wasn't him being a dog with its tail between its legs; he just didn't want to cause unnecessary discomfort within the ranks.

Time passed, long years filled with the endless struggle against hollows, countless participations to soul burials, boring, drawn-out meetings in the First Division's majestic hall, and Jushiro found himself growing fonder of "that beast of the Eleventh." He wasn't sure how, why, but he was certain that whenever his eyes befell Kenpachi, whenever the man passed so much as a fleeting glance over at him, he'd be washed away by some kind of sentiment whose nature still eludes him. He's been with women, knows what they want and how they prefer to be treated, but with a man, someone like Kenpachi nonetheless, things were drastically elevated to a whole new level.

And in no time, Jushiro witnessed himself being swept away, melting into fierce, chained kisses that set the comatose lust within him ablaze, having his back raked by jagged-edged nails, neck ravaged by unforgiving teeth. His toes would curl, mouth opened wide and panting, with each strong, merciless thrust his body received. The experience wrapped around imaginable hurt, white-hot pain searing through him upon that first penetration, but he keeps coming back for more. Like an addict pleading for fatal, consuming drugs.

He's rough, Jushiro has to admit. He doesn't care, plunging in harder, deeper, whenever Jushiro cries out for a pause, taking him right there on the cold, hard floor just moments after Jushiro tells him to stop. But, in all its perverse nature, his demands are what keep Jushiro on his toes, eager to please.

As a calming breeze that creeps in through the opened window ruffles Jushiro's white strands, he runs a hand over Kenpachi's hair. Fingers entangling in his dark, unkempt tresses, Jushiro lies back and allows the steady beating of Kenpachi's heart lull him to slumber. A stray cherry blossom, having rebelled against its mother tree and eloped with the wind, drifts in and settles itself on his chest. He rubs the petals gently between his forefinger and thumb, careful not to disrupt the soft curve of the little flower before tucking it behind Kenpachi's ear.

It takes all his willpower not to laugh out loud at the expression across Kenpachi's face when he wakes up the next morning and stares at himself in the mirror with wide eyes.

"Fuck you, Ukitake," he snarls, launching himself at Jushiro with hands outstretched, ready for a grave murder, but misses and tumbles onto the bed instead. Jushiro hovers over him, finally letting slip a chuckle, and kisses him softly. His lips muffle Kenpachi's protests, and eventually he manages to get the man to calm down enough to pull him closer, deepening the kiss. Jushiro brushes the hair out of his eyes, smiling fondly at the scowl he sports. Kenpachi would have beheaded whoever dares pull such a prank on him, but when it comes to Jushiro, all he's able to do is spit and grimace without any real intention of dealing pain.

If anyone asks him whether he's ever played jokes on anyone, Jushiro would say that his first joke, and the rest that come after, were played on one Zaraki Kenpachi.

Jushiro's glad that he's found that other side of Kenpachi. It's because of that he isn't dead yet, and that makes teasing the man all the more fun.


End file.
